


a fleeting flower, once painted, blooms forever

by lilac-vode (MollyMerula)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Thrawn Ascendancy Trilogy - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Gen, if you haven't read chaos rising please consider reading chaos rising :), late night art appreciation as a family activity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 04:08:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30049695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MollyMerula/pseuds/lilac-vode
Summary: Senior Captain Thrawn receives an unexpected late-night visit from a fellow art appreciator.
Relationships: Che'ri & Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	a fleeting flower, once painted, blooms forever

Che’ri adjusts her grip on the questis and art sheets tucked under her arm as she stares at the door to Thrawn’s office. The _Springhawk_ is quiet at this time of night, and all she can hear is the gentle hum of the ship’s systems. She can tell the captain is still awake – the door is rimmed with the soft light from inside the room – but will he be upset with her for interrupting whatever he’s doing? For a moment, she hesitates, almost reconsidering her decision, but then she makes up her mind, takes a deep breath, and pokes the button for the door chime. Almost immediately, the door slides open, and she can see Thrawn seated at his desk near the center of the room, surrounded by pieces of art both physical and projected. His eyes flick toward her, and he tilts his head almost imperceptibly, by way of greeting. If he is surprised to see Che’ri standing in the hall at this hour, he doesn’t show it.

“Do you need something?” he asks, moving his chair a little to see her better past his desk. The gentle tone of his voice surprises her, and gives her the courage to step into the room.

“I can’t sleep,” Che’ri says, tapping her fistful of graph markers against her leg. “I’m not tired yet. And it’s so lonely lying there in the dark. I just wanted to talk to someone.”

“Wasn’t Thalias with you?”

Che’ri’s nose twitches. “She’s already asleep. I didn’t want to bother her.”

“So you came to bother me instead?”

Like always, Che’ri can’t tell from his voice, so she squints at his face to see if he’s joking. He is – she can tell from the little smile in his eyes. Answering his tease with a fake huff and exaggerated eye roll, she plops down in a wheeled chair near the door, peering with interest at the artifacts and holograms arranged on his desk. “Are you studying tactics again?”

“Not this time,” Thrawn says softly, seemingly lost in thought with his gaze fixed on a projection in front of him. “Art can be a very useful tool, but one must not forget to appreciate it the way the artist intended as well. Much of the time I simply enjoy looking at it.”

Stretching out her legs so her toes can reach the floor, Che’ri rolls her chair a little bit closer. She hasn’t ever considered before that the captain’s interest in art might extend beyond its tactical value. Maybe they have more in common than it seems. Her eyes linger on one of the holograms, a small sculpture made from stone carved into the shape of a creature with stubby legs.

“How did you get all of these?” Che’ri asks as she watches the hologram rotate slowly in midair to show every angle of the sculpture.

“Many of the holograms are downloaded from public digital archives. As for the physical pieces, they are mostly bought or traded for, usually at artisans’ markets. Some of them were gifts.”

Che’ri edges her chair a little nearer still to the desk, marveling at the specialness of receiving such a thing as a gift. Across from her, Thrawn touches a few buttons and switches out some of the holograms for different pieces. One of them, a scan of a painting, sits stationary, angled just enough that Che’ri can barely see it. Overcome with curiosity, she gives up on subtlety and kicks across the floor to roll her chair around the side of the desk until she’s parked next to the captain. From here, she can see the painting properly: it’s a rendition of a group of people, of a species she doesn’t recognize, harvesting crops on a farm. The scene is bathed with the golden glow of sunrise. Looking at the picture, she can almost hear the chatter and laughter of good-natured people working together.

“Look at the brushwork,” Thrawn says, adjusting the magnification of the holo to pan in on the farm crops. The leaves and stalks seem to jump off the canvas, layered up with extra paint to give them a special thickness – and yet they still look so delicate. Che’ri stares, admiring the textures, and then suddenly something else catches her eye. Leaning out of her chair, she points so enthusiastically at a stand-framed painting that she almost tips over, and she has to plant a hand on Thrawn’s leg to keep her balance. “What’s that one? I like the colors.”

Steadying her with one hand, Thrawn reaches over with the other to bring the piece closer, placing it on the desk in front of her. “Striking, aren’t they? And very unusual. The pigments for these paints come from several species of flowers that only grow for a few days out of the year on a single planet.” He taps at his questis for a moment, then turns the screen to her, flicking through a series of images of spiked flowers growing straight out from cracked stone. The petals share some of the same vibrant hues that Che’ri can see in the painting. It makes her smile, and she starts to say something, then hesitates. But when she looks back at the captain, his expression is encouraging, like he really wants to hear what she has to say.

“I was just thinking,” Che’ri begins again, “about art. These flowers only bloom for a little while. But when they’re turned into paint, they look this beautiful forever. It’s kind of that way with feelings too, isn’t it?”

Thrawn is quiet for just a moment, so Che’ri glances up at him again – and sees him smiling. “You’re right, Che’ri. Art is a way of immortalizing many kinds of things which would otherwise be fleeting. That’s why it’s important to preserve it.”

Emboldened by a glow of pride, Che’ri decides to take one more chance. She moves as if to set her art sheets and markers on the desk – and without a word, Thrawn deftly plucks a few objects out of her way, relocating them to clear a little more space for her. Grinning in triumph, Che’ri scoots in her chair and gets to work, beginning with a study of the stubby-legged sculpture.

When she awakes the next morning, Che’ri doesn’t remember falling asleep – but she is tucked into her own bed, with her questis in its dock and her paper and markers arranged neatly on the wall table beside her.


End file.
